“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


the poem on the corner

this morning
a superstitious mockingbird waged war
on an unlucky friday the 13th black cat kitten
unschooled in the power of words and calendars
                                         thinking it play 
batting at feathers with soft paws and sheathed claws
batting at air where once anger flew
batting zilch zero nada sa-wing  battah battah
but this bird had flown
           damage done
black cat kitten innocence scatted away

there are poems on every corner, this one early this morning waiting on me, just a glance from the corner of my eye, where, in fact, most of the poems hide, leaving it up to me to notice.  the poem this afternoon is the pattern of red stripes across the bottom of the tv screen, mute, the pattern of silence against the red notes of a cardinal hidden in the pecan tree, notes flung to the sky and answered by the breeze singing back through the catawba blossoms.

the tv crawl reads north korea something
and my shoulder begins to tighten,
the dryer falls quiet
the cat falls to sleep
we all fall down and this ain't no rabbit hole;
this is the truth squared.
i change channels
and it's north carolina
and world war II
and a red porch across the bottom of the screen.
patterns continue,
clouds cover the blue sky,
and all the birds all fall silent.

day 13 of NaPoWriMo, national poetry writing month.
a poem a day.


  1. oh, WOW. How do you this? The music, rhythm of your words leaves me in awe.

  2. Yes,it's the rhythm.The music of such small moments is quiet, but Debi picks up every nuance, and celebrates the small moment as a symphony. It's her own rhythm from seeing what is seldom seen.

  3. Beautiful ebb and flow. Lovely pieces

  4. This is a poem that walked me through a room full of pictures, and at the end (like all the best poems) the door slammed shut and i was left there standing, wanting to hear more.

  5. exactly...wanting to hear more. i followed your gaze. i listened spellbound with your ears.
    as always, your words are amazing.
    in fondest of regard, tilda

  6. poetry becomes you ... birds falling silent is such an amazing moment ..they feel so much~~

  7. Your words do paint a picture of the news this week. The little glimpses are much better than what we see on the tv. Red cardinals are lovely, but don't live near me. How I miss them.

  8. Your words, even when describing the everyday things like the newslines, invoke reactions, feelings... You have a gift with words.


come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .